Wrote while thinking of someone special. They know who they are, and if they ever read this, I hope the appreciate what I've done.

By:K.Diiwica
20, September2006

I’m the voice that cries for you at night. You dream about me all the time, however you do not know what I look like, you don’t know what I am, you don’t know what I look like. What do you call me? Do you fear me?

Some call me Love others call me Lust, and still yet others call me Dream. What will you all me when I come down and lay myself next to you? Will it be one of those? Will it be some new name you make up?

I sometimes skulk into your room just as night sets. With me I carry the wind. I use it to bluster out your illumination. After I come in I block out everything that does not pertain to us. Then tenderly whisper to you not to glance, just listen and believe. I caress you. You move over and insinuation for me to share the bed with you. I lay there all night holding you and being held by you. Every night that I am there I feel you reach to turn out the light. I whisper to you, “Don’t turn on the light Love,” and you discontinue and place your arm back down. I tell you to go to sleep, and while you work at doing so I sing to you until you are in a cavernous slumber.

Do you think that I am a trance, a hallucination, a nightmare, maybe a vision? Perhaps you believe that I am some subconscious, involuntary, creature?

In the morning I take the time to waken you, though I take the time to make sure that it is still mysterious. I kiss you and tell you that I love you. Then I leave being careful not to let you see my hopeless expression.

One night, while the weather was uncontrolled with storm I came to you. You had placed the light out of reach; I could not blow it out with my wind. I covered myself as I heard your voice come from that brightly lit corner of yours.

“Lust; who are you, what are you, what is your real name, what do you look like?” I hear you get up and walk towards me. My heart beat starts to beat faster and loudly. I feel it speed up even more as you get closer to me.

“I am a mystery, not forever but at least for now.” Then “poof” just like that you were right in front of me. With my heavy cloak in front of my face being the only think between me and you. You reach you hand up, I grab it just before you can remove me shield from my face.

“Lust please; I need to know what and who you are.” I take your hand and place it on my cheek.

“You must first turn the light out.” You pull away from me, and stand there for a few moments not moving a single inch not saying a single word. Did I frighten you? Then you place your hand under my chin.

“What are you so afraid of, it is just light.”

That is such an easy thing for you to say. I start to question to myself if I should have even come on this dismal night. I start to question if I should say anything in return, if I should flinch, or just stand there being quiet, “Please turn out the light,” I beg to you “you do not want to see my face.” I hear you chuckle. I am deeply puzzled by your reasoning for it.

“What is it that you fear Lust?” I hear you question. “You have such grace, balance; your voice has so much musical beauty. I’m sure that your face has beauty as well. Please just one look?”

I wish you would not say such things to me, because I cannot help but feel compelled to do as you wish. I know deep down that you would not like what you see though. While lacking even the slightest amount of avidity I reply, “I’m too mundane to see, once you see me you will wish me vanished.”

I make an effort to turn away but you stop me. Should have I been scared of you? I knew what you were doing; I understood what your goal was. Yet I did nothing but stand there and stare at you. I stood there, doing absolutely nothing, like I was placed into a trance. Your melodic voice ever so perfectly intone with you musically angelic movements. Like an orchestra’s bow movements, or a marching band’s halftime show, moving while never having a stray player or a flat or sharp note. I knew all this and understand what your next movement was going to be, and I stood there transfixed by you.

“Why do you hide from me,” you seemed annoyed. “I don’t hide, I protect,” my simple minded, girl like answer. How could I have let that fall out of my mouth? I meant to step back, but I was far too belatedly. You had already grasped my hood and pushed it back.

I should have turned away turned away. I should have run and never come back. I didn’t. I stood there exposed to everything you had to now say. To say about this monster girl that fell in love with angel boy.

You moved what little bit of hair that had fallen in front of my face. Without looking at me you walked me over to a chair, that one that you had sat in your lit corner. That corner of doom. I knew you wanted me to sit. So I did. I sat there quietly; I watch your movements such like a dancer’s they were; ballet dancer’s movements or perhaps a ballroom dancer’s. I hear you say, “Lust look up at me please.” I do what you ask, but all I see is a mirror in front of my face. “Is this what you fear,” you ask me still not looking at me.

“Yes, yes, that scared beast looking back at me is what I see; it is what I fear like no other. You should too,” I tell you my voice quivering.

“Perhaps,” that was all I heard from you. You then moved mirror from in front of my face “You shouldn’t,” you tell me. I am confused by what you say. I am confused by what you are meaning. Perhaps I am dim-witted as well.

“Why,” you ask. An easy enough question to answer I guess, you continue “you have nothing to be afraid of; you are beautiful the way that you are.

“Who are you?” My eyes look away from you. “Lust, my name is lust.” You shake you head in puzzlement.

"Lust is what I call you. What is your real name?”

“It doesn’t matter,” I reply. Why should one suck as I have a true name?

“Please,” you ask me.

“Monster,” I look you in the eyes of you, my interrogator.
“Your name is not monster.” If only you knew, that is the only name I have ever know other than Lust. The sun began to rise; you see the fear starting to rise in my eyes. “I should go,” I say to you. You walk to your window and close the curtains.

“You will stay here today,” you state forcefully. Then you walk back to me and put your hand out to me.

“I can’t,” I reply. You do not accept that as my answer.

“Place your hand in mine, but before that put your cloak in my hand.” Again fear rises in my eyes. You turn you back after I had it to you. I close my eyes, knowing the worse is yet to come.

I should have never come. It was a mistake, a huge one. It was all too wrong. You are an angelic being, I am just a monster. I am just monster girl with devilish scars all over her body, all over her mind? Will monster girl ever know what real love is like without fear? Only if angel boy shows me how!

2009-03-12[Lightning Cowgirl]: Can I make one suggestion Kayla? Put a blank line in between paragraphs so that people can read it a little easier. With the green back ground, it is a litle hard to see. Space it a little and it will be easier. Its a really good piece. I liked it! Keep writing!

2009-03-12[Diiwica]: In all honesty I don't remember where the paragraphs are anymore. LOL. I wrote this so long ago.